


Sharp Dressed Man

by the_me09



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man: Far From Home (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Time Blow Jobs, Kinktober 2020, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Blow Jobs, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex, formal wear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:48:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26748322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_me09/pseuds/the_me09
Summary: Beck and Peter see each other again post-London at Beck's knighting ceremony. Beck wants to thank Peter for giving him EDITH.On his knees. With his mouth.
Relationships: Quentin Beck/Peter Parker
Comments: 4
Kudos: 66
Collections: Kinktober 2020 - the_me09





	Sharp Dressed Man

**Author's Note:**

> Kinktober Day One - Formal Wear

Beck looks really good in a tuxedo, Peter thinks. It’s the first time he’s seen Beck since arriving late in London to find Fury dead, and Beck covered in bruises and cuts, desperate to revive Fury. 

He looks a lot better now. 

Peter tugs his bow tie again. He can’t get it straight no matter what he does. Beck doesn’t seem to have the same problem. Peter doesn’t even know why he’s at this knighting ceremony, he didn’t help, he left Beck on his own. Beck will probably ignore him all night. Why would he talk to someone who let him down? 

“Peter, hey kid, it’s good to see you again,” Beck says, joining him by the wall. 

“Hi, yeah, uh, good to see you too,” Peter says, crossing his arms. “Congratulations, knighthood, that’s like… way cool.”

“Thank you,” Beck smiles. “Couldn’t have done it without EDITH.”

Peter shrugs and ducks his head. “I should have been there.”

“Don’t think like that.” Beck bumps their shoulders together. “You couldn’t have known what would happen. Let’s get a drink.” 

Beck walks toward the bar. Peter’s eyes are drawn to the way the tux outlines Beck’s shape, the broad shoulders then inward to his waist. That tux is  _ really _ fitted. 

“I’m still not old enough!” He calls out. Beck laughs and turns to look at him. 

“C’mon, let loose.” 

Peter’s breath catches at the look Beck gives him. There’s a heat in his eyes, a challenge that has Peter’s stomach flipping over. He follows Beck to the bar and takes the shot handed to him. 

“To you,” Beck says, lifting his shot. Peter mirrors his movement, they clink the glasses, and Peter thinks ‘why not’ before downing it. 

It burns, worse than he expected. Peter coughs and splutters, sticking his tongue out. That was disgusting! Why do people even drink that? 

Beck laughs, slapping Peter's knee. His cheeks are ruddy; it seems like that wasn’t Beck’s first shot. There’s a warm burn in Peter’s belly that moves up toward his cheeks, out toward his limbs. Beck gets him another shot and Peter takes it, coughing again. 

“That’ll put hair on your chest,” Beck says with a laugh. He squeezes Peter’s shoulder. “Seriously, I can’t thank you enough for EDITH. You’ve changed my life.”

Peter bites his lip. “Oh, I- you don’t have to thank me.” Beck’s eyes are really blue, and kind of sparkly. Or maybe that’s the alcohol. His chest looks firm. Peter puts a hand out to catch himself and yeah, Beck’s chest is really firm. 

“Let me,” Beck says intently. 

He drags Peter off the bar stool. It feels like Peter is going through puberty again; he’s all limbs and awkwardness, stumbling after Beck. 

“Where are we going?” Peter asks. People wave to Beck, stop to talk to him, but Beck doesn’t let go of Peter’s wrist. He never does get an answer, not until they’re sequestered in one of several coat rooms. “Beck, what’s going on? Is there a threat? Are we hiding from someone?” 

“What will it take for you to call me Quentin?” Beck asks, leaning into him. 

“Oh, uh, sorry?” Peter swallows. Beck’s face is really close to his. Like… really close. 

“Your tie is askew,” Beck says, glancing down. He fixes Peter’s tie, hands warm and close to Peter’s face. He can feel the warmth of Beck’s body with how close they’re standing. 

Then Beck’s mouth is on his. Peter startles back, staring at Beck. “What? You just- you kissed me?”

Beck grins, his eyes are dark. Peter can’t tell if he’s nervous or if his spidey sense is going off. He swallows and licks his lips. The lips that were just on Beck’s. His face gets hotter; he resists the urge to tug on his collar. He’ll just mess up his tie again. 

“I want to thank you, Peter. I mean it.” Beck’s voice is low, almost a purr. Peter shivers. 

Beck kisses him again, but this time Peter is prepared. He’s still surprised, but kisses back, unused to the scrape of beard around his mouth. He wonders if kissing MJ would be like this. Beck’s tongue does some twisty thing against his that Peter would swear he feels in his toes, he moans softly, setting his hands on Beck’s waist. His suit is  _ velvet _ . 

“Wow,” Peter breathes out. 

Beck smirks. “Just you wait.” He sinks to his knees in front of Peter, his hands at Peter’s fly.

“Woah! Woah, Beck, you really don’t have to do this? Like, I don’t know about your world, but this is not really how we thank people here? Unless they’re like… in a relationship or something?” Peter babbles his mind going blank. He’s stuck on the image of Beck looking up at him, eyes crinkling at the corners, bow tie perfectly straight under his beard, his hair slicked back. He’s crazy handsome, actually. Peter feels like he knew that? But it’s hitting him all over again. 

“I want to do this for you, Peter,” Beck says. “As I said before. I like you, kid.” Beck smirks and his hands find Peter’s cock. 

He sucks in a breath as Beck pulls his cock out of his pants. Beck looks up at him, eyebrows raised. 

“No wonder that suit was tight in the web-shooter,” Beck says with a laugh. His hand is big and hot. He cups the head of Peter’s cock, polishing it with his palm, driving Peter insane. He bucks his hips, staring at Beck in awe. 

Is this really happening?

Beck tips his head back and licks the underside of Peter’s cock. How is this possible: that Beck is kneeling in front of him in a tuxedo sucking his dick. Peter takes a shuddery breath. He’s sure Beck can feel the pounding of his heart in his dick. 

“By the way, I’ll swallow if you call me Quentin.” Beck grins and wiggles his eyebrows. 

Then he wraps his lips around Peter’s dick. It’s hot and wet, and unlike anything he’s ever felt before. 

“Oh my god, Quentin,” Peter says. He can feel sweat dampening the back of his suit, trailing down his back. He tentatively puts a hand on Beck’s head. 

Beck moans around his cock, the vibration going through Peter. He bobs his head, his mouth tight, wet, pulling on his cock perfectly, and then he does that thing with his tongue and Peter’s balls twitch. Shit, he can’t come this fast, what will Beck think? 

Beck sinks his mouth further onto Peter, his nose brushing the fabric of his pants. One of Beck’s hands cups his balls, the other grips his thigh. Peter watches Beck’s lips get red, swollen looking, wrapped tight around his cock. The suction is crazy, there’s no way he could do that with his fist. Peter shudders, moans. 

His balls pull tight, and he tries to think of something else, tries to conjure his guilt from earlier, the feeling of letting Beck down. He looks at Beck, those big blue eyes, daring him to come. Beck pulls off him with a slurping noise that Peter’s only ever heard in porn. Oh shit, there’s no way he’s going to last. 

“Fuck,” Beck breathes out. “I haven’t done this in a while. My jaw is getting sore,” Beck says. He rubs his jaw with one hand and then smirks at Peter. “You’re bigger than I thought.”

“Oh my god,” Peter whimpers.

Beck wraps his hand around the base of Peter’s cock and dives back in, mouth open wide to take Peter as far as possible. His dick hits the roof of Beck’s mouth, he can feel the ridges there, on his dick! Peter pants, so close, the head rubbing over that ridge, his brain supplies that it’s called the hard palette. Oh fuck, he jerks his hips and Beck moans, mouth constricting tighter. 

Peter’s dick throbs, the head bumps against Beck’s hard palette again, and he’s tipping over the edge. He stares down at Beck as his cock pulses, waves of pleasure rushing through him. He watches Beck’s throat push against his collar and bow tie as he swallows Peter’s load. 

Beck licks his cock clean and tucks it back in his pants. His lips look red, and his beard is a little damp, but he doesn’t look very mussed. Peter probably looks like a wreck. He totally gets the phrase hot under the collar now. His suit is sticking to him everywhere. 

“You taste pretty good,” Beck says, his voice rougher than before. “Come to my hotel room later. So I can thank you properly.” He grins. 

“Thanks?” Peter blinks at Beck. When he looks at Beck’s mouth now, all he can think about is his cock between those lips. Beck just swallowed his come! Now he looks like nothing happened. 

Except his bow tie is a little askew.


End file.
